My Family Tried to Evict Me from the Craftsman House My Grandparents Left Me
My father, Charles, was sitting at the head of the dark mahogany table. He was adjusting the brown leather strap of his watch, tightening it by one notch, then loosening it again.
“Sit down, Emily,” he said.
I sat in the chair to his right.
“Your mother tells me you are refusing to cooperate with the surveyor,” my father said.
“The surveyor was trespassing on my property,” I said.
“It is not your property until the estate is fully cleared,” my father said, leaning forward. “And as the executor of the primary estate, I have the authority to manage the assets.”
“The deed for the Elm Street house was transferred to me before Grandfather died,” I said. “It bypassed the probate estate entirely. You know that, Dad.”
My father adjusted his watch strap again, his fingers pressing hard against the metal buckle.
“I can still file a petition to challenge the transfer,” he said. “We can tie that property up in court for the next two years. It will cost you thousands of dollars in legal fees.”
